


Gifts of the Living

by toffeecape



Series: Bird Rock Lambchop (Bird Bigger Bird) [7]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Afterlife, Ancient Egyptian Deities, Body Horror, Fluff and Smut, Ghost Sex, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Japanese Culture, Light Angst, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Male Lactation, Masturbation, Past Character Death, Possession, Power Exchange, Sharing a Body, Variations on Ancient Egyptian Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 19:48:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15979223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toffeecape/pseuds/toffeecape
Summary: Traversing the Duat is no walk in the park.





	Gifts of the Living

“Whatever,” Atem sighs, “I’m just glad I don’t have to hunt down the gods and eat their flesh.”

Yugi boggles. “That was a possibility?”

“It was the primary religious debate of our time,” explains Mahaad. “Whether the afterlife was a neverending cannibalistic hunt, or more of an obstacle course on the way to a resting place.” He pauses, and adds delicately, “While I ended up settling elsewhere, I, too, am glad it turned out to be the latter, for your sakes.”

Yugi surveys the map Mahaad conjured from clay. “‘Better than cannibalism’ feels like kind of a low bar, guys.” The Duat is… really big, as big as Egypt in the world of the living. They’ve been travelling for days, and if the ‘You Are Here’ marker is correct, they’ve barely made any progress toward their destination: the Nile Delta in the north that, in this realm, is a paradise called Aaru. More than the sheer distance, what’s slowing them down most is the literally hundreds of gates and mounds guarded by one-hit-wonder deities who were dreamed up long after Atem’s time and vanished long before Yugi’s. “Why can’t we just stay here, following the banks of the Nile? Or better yet, get a boat and travel _on_ it?”

“Hippos,” says Mahaad.

“Crocodiles,” says Atem.

“No boat,” says Mahaad.

Yugi sighs. “I wish I’d had Yomi Ship or something like it in my deck when I died.” He freezes as a bell rings out, followed by the sound of someone clapping their hands twice. “Are you kidding me?”

Atem smirks. “You should know better than to use the ‘w’-word casually by now, partner.”

“It does seem to be the key to accessing the offerings made in your name,” Mahaad points out.

Yugi moves to a clear spot and kneels. “It’s not that I’m not grateful, but I’m really not hungry right now.”

The first time it happened, he’d been incredibly moved. The bell and clapping had preceded the materialization of a paper bag bursting with takeout, and a young woman’s voice saying, “This is an offering for Mutou- _sama,_  Yugi Mutou the King of Games. They say the only food you liked better than hamburgers was a meal shared with your friends, so I got you enough to share. I - I’m about to apply for a new job in game design, and I _really_ want it. I have so many ideas. So this is to ask for a blessing on my portfolio, and on my composure in the interview, and on the attitudes of the hiring managers toward me. I, uh, I need all the help I can get, haha.”

Yugi’d stood there gobsmacked, until Atem elbowed him in the side and hissed, “Say something!”

“Uh, right! Thank you, and, um, good luck!” he’d called, feeling like an idiot. But that didn’t seem good enough, so then he added, “And actually, don’t worry about your composure! If your portfolio speaks for itself then it’s fine to show your enthusiasm! Game companies are full of dorks who love games!”

After a moment, the woman’s voice said, “It’s crazy, but I feel like maybe he heard me. I do feel a bit better now. Thank you, Mutou- _sama!”_

That had been the first meal they ate as spirits. Yugi hadn’t realized how strange and floaty he was starting to feel until the hot, greasy, salty food brought him back to himself. Atem looked more grounded, too, and Mahaad had looked subtly relieved (which meant he must have been subtly freaking out before).

And it’s kept coming, a parade of _shinsen_ \- fruit, fish, and vegetables - and rice, mochi, sake, so many burgers, even those awful energy drinks he hawked briefly to his eternal regret (and Atem’s amusement) in life and now in death. They seem to be unmoored in time, some offerings stated to be years after their deaths, others just days.

Best of all, they figured out that they can make the food show up again by recalling the offering. Turns out, being a registered _ujigami_ at the Domino shrine is a helluva good deal even when they aren’t in Domino. Or in Japan. Or - on Earth.

This time, though, what shows up isn’t food or drink. It’s a hard white briefcase - a very familiar one. Yugi gapes. “No way.”

“This is an offering for Yugi and Atem,” grates a harsh voice that didn’t soften at all with the hoarseness of age.

Atem stiffens. “Kaiba!”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s a terrible fate for a natural-born atheist to get proof positive of an afterlife. You geeks are life-ruiners to the end.

Wherever you are, you’re probably in trouble and need to be bailed out by someone competent, so I’m sending you my Duel Monsters cards. Or their - fuck, I don’t know, their essence or whatever. Enough hocus-pocus horseshit happened around this game that they’re probably good for something. And _obviously_ I have no use for them now.

Which leads me to my next point! It’s totally unacceptable that I’m outliving you idiots. _Do you know how much cocaine I did? Because I_ **_don’t!_ ** _That’s how much!!_

Okay. Okay. Focus. Cards, check. Give them a piece of my _fucking_ mind, check.

I know it’s going to be hard, but try not to do anything irredeemably stupid until I can make contact properly, probably by kicking the bucket at last. I’m expecting an introduction to Blue-Eyes White Dragon.”

“Oh,” Mahaad murmurs, “he’ll be getting _that_ whether we’re involved or not.”

There is the now-familiar silent pause as the donor comes to the end of their prayer-thoughts. Yugi pulls the case into his lap and says softly, “Kaiba. Thank you. Take care of yourself.”

A disembodied grunt of disgust. “Okay, I’m done with this. What a waste of time.” But the ever-present anger in Kaiba’s voice sounds a little less heavy. “Later, losers.”

“So,” Mahaad says at last, “he’s like that all the time, then, not just across from you in a duel.”

“Yeah,” Atem sighs, rubbing his forehead.

“And here I thought the first one was grumpy.”

Atem barks a laugh. “Seth was a veritable ray of sunshine compared to Seto Kaiba.”

“ _Is_ a ray of sunshine. It will probably be his layer of Aaru we arrive in.”

“Because I abdicated to him?”

“And because Kisara won’t let anyone connected to Seth go anywhen else. Dragons are possessive like that.”

Yugi interjects, “This Kisara you keep talking about is a dragon?”

“Oh. Yes. She’s the Blue-Eyes White Dragon.”

The case falls from Yugi’s nerveless fingers onto the ground. _“What?”_

Atem muses, “So that woman he said hosted the dragon - was she even a woman at all?”

“Very astute, sire. She was not. That was merely a construct for interacting with Seth and laying claim to his soul.”

“Well, she certainly succeeded at _that.”_

“Indeed. She brags about it every time she visits the Monster Realm.”

“My head hurts,” Yugi moans. “I’m gonna see if there are any boats in this brand new motherlode of _ushabti.”_ He opens the case.

* * *

Yugi does, in fact, find a boat card among the collection Kaiba gifted to them. However, it lacks a boatman, and even if it had one that boatman could do very little about the fact that Yugi summoned the boat all the way up on dry land.

Atem watches him coach his magnet warriors in heaving the boat closer to the river. They’re making slow but steady progress without Atem's involvement. He turns to Mahaad.

“Is there a reason you haven’t pointed out you can fly yet? _Can_ you fly here?”

“I haven’t tried,” Mahaad admits. “Even if I could, I see two problems. First, I don’t think I could carry even one of you now that you are no longer ninety-pound teenagers, and certainly not both. Second, I don’t know exactly how much rule-bending has gone into us being here like this, but it’s - a lot. And according to the rules of _our_ time, flying…”

“Is for pharaohs,” Atem finishes with resignation. He remembers the inscriptions on his father’s sarcophagus, imbuing his _akh_ with the power to leap cliffs in a single bound, and even soar like a bird into the sky. He would have had similar himself, had he died in a more normal fashion.

 _“I_ still see you as a pharaoh, but as you’ve repeatedly said yourself, officially you are not. I think it’s wisest to play by commoner rules, and use no more magic than necessary.” Atem points wordlessly to the conjured map, summoned boat, and summoned magnet warriors continuing to heave on the boat, and gives Mahaad a Look. “Granted, that’s still quite a bit of magic! But it’s necessary, given that you arrived here with nothing but your pajamas and a deck of cards.”

Atem drops to a squat and glares at the clay map. “I don’t know how to feel about this version of the Duat. It’s good that commoners are as able to traverse it as anyone else, but did you _read_ the Book of the Dead that replaced the Coffin Texts? _One_ right way to do things, and that way is deliberately so byzantine that at every turn the shortcut is pay the priests, pay the priests, pay the priests.”

“How do you think I feel? I _was_ a priest. It’s a travesty. We will traverse the Duat, but we will be as clever as we can, as is our right and everyone’s, no matter that our descendants forgot it.” Mahaad nods firmly. Atem is so, _so_ grateful to have his company and counsel once again.

“I’m glad we’re of one mind in that regard.” He draws a circle in the clay with his fingertip, near the origin-point of the delta. “I am most particularly concerned with finding a way around the Scales of Anubis.”

“What? Why?”

Atem looks over at Yugi again. He remains absorbed in boat-moving, his excitement growing as the prow starts to slide down the riverbank proper. Quietly, he says, “I did a great deal of sinning when Yugi first freed me from the Millennium Puzzle, and some later as well.”

“You were not yourself.”

“Then who was I? I am responsible for grievously injuring or killing dozens of people, sometimes only vaguely in Yugi’s defense, and he would _not_ have approved of my doing so had he been aware. But that is somewhat beside the point. If it were just me I would face judgement and have done with it.”

“Of course you would,” Mahaad mutters.

“My chief concern is that the only heart in the vicinity at the time… was Yugi’s.”

“You’re afraid that the weight of your ‘sins’ would be counted on _his_ heart at the Scales.”

“You know how literal our faith can be. You can’t say it’s not a possibility.”

Mahaad’s silence is troubled. At last he says, “Very well. We go around the Scales.”

Atem looks at the map again. Something niggles at his memory, something he’s overlooking. Like a word on the tip of his tongue, if he just concentrates a moment longer he’ll have it-

“Uh, guys?” Yugi calls frantically. “Little help?” The boat is now legitimately floating in the river - and thus is subject to its current, and being dragged parallel to the bank. It looks like it will spin out farther soon.

Atem grabs the case of cards and runs to catch the boat.

* * *

They don’t have enough people to row, so they just let the current carry them, steering out of trouble with the rudder. Even just drifting like that, they make _way_ better time without needing to stop for every tiny deity along the way. When they make camp for the night, on a bare stretch of riverbank Atem and Mahaad judge to be undesirable for both hippos and crocodiles, Mahaad’s map shows they got as far in one day on the river as they did in almost two weeks of walking.

“At this rate we could be knocking on the gates of Aaru inside of a week!” Yugi says, bedding down with Atem beside the campfire. “Was this a great idea or what?”

Atem smiles thinly. “You are a fount of great ideas, partner, as always.” He’s been preoccupied all day, and Yugi knows it’s not just with steering the boat. He’s known Atem for too long not to know when something is eating him.

Yugi winds his leg around Atem’s thigh, and his arm around Atem’s far side. Just as Atem catches wind of his plan, Yugi pulls himself up and over, sitting on Atem’s midsection and pinning his shoulders.

“Spill it, other me.”

Atem tries and fails to look innocent. “Spill what?”

“Whatever’s bothering you. I can tell something is, and not in a ‘secret that Yugi can’t actually do anything about and won’t become relevant for years and years’ kind of way, either.”

Atem’s eyes slide away. Yugi bends down and nuzzles at his neck, and says, “We’re going to be out here a long time if I have to practically nail you into another dimension every time you’ve got a bee in your bonnet.” Atem’s neck heats up against Yugi’s face as he blushes. His arms come up around Yugi and squeeze him tightly.

“I don’t deserve you,” he says quietly.

Oh, this bullshit again. “Yeah, you saved the entire world, what, five times? One punk game designer is pretty poor compensation,” Yugi drawls.

“That’s _not_ what I-"

“That’s if we’re even accepting the premise that people can be bargaining chips. Which you know I don’t.” He settles his weight firmly onto Atem and winds his arms and legs around him, a pose he privately refers to as The Octopus - superior to Stacked Starfish (superimposing all four limbs, with a firm grip on Atem’s wrists) when Atem is in the mood to cling to him like a teddy bear. Yugi takes his cuddle positions at least as seriously as his sex positions. “What brought this on?”

Not for nothing were they married for so long. Atem can’t _not_ respond to Yugi’s grounding hold; Yugi can feel his heart slow down and his breathing grow deeper as they lie there. But still he keeps silent.

“Atem. Other me. There is _nothing_ you are capable of saying or doing that would drive me away. You have to know that by now.”

“I do know,” Atem sighs, “and it means a very great deal. That’s not the problem. I’m afraid, partner. I could… l-lose you out here, no driving away required.”

“What? I mean, sure, it’s dangerous, but I think we’ve navigated the dangers pretty well so far.”

“There’s one danger ahead of us that will not be navigable. If we cannot go around it, I fear it will spell certain disaster.”

“You’re gonna need to unpack that a little bit.”

“...You’re right. And it concerns you. You deserve to know.” Haltingly, with much squeezing, Atem explains his worries about the Scales of Anubis, and all the things he did in Yugi’s body being counted against Yugi’s heart.

“I thought you didn’t remember what you did when you first got released?”

“I didn’t in life, not clearly. Death seems to have improved my recall somewhat.” He hesitates, then asks, “Do you want details? It’s not good.”

“How about a summary?”

“...Okay.” Atem is silent for another minute.

“Well?”

“I’m summarizing.” He digs his fingertips into the muscles of Yugi’s back, kneading them like a cat, and says at last, “Eleven people cursed with extremely vivid hallucinations, some maybe permanently. Two comas. One poisoning by scorpion. One explosion. One person set on fire. Eighteen people electrocuted, and then later the same eighteen people dropped off a roof. Playing the Seal of Orichalcos, and scourging a child.”

“What, that thing with Weevil and the Berserker Soul card? Téa told me about that years ago, and what he did first-"

“I _scourged_. A _child.”_

Yugi’s going about this the wrong way. If he tries to break down every time Atem made a choice Yugi wouldn’t (and admittedly, _holy shit_ there were a lot of times), and every possible consequence of those choices, they’ll be here forever.

“How many of these were unprovoked?”

“...Well. None.”

“And in how many cases were you protecting me and my friends from assault or murder?” Also, what the _fuck_ was wrong in Domino when he was growing up? Yugi elects to blame it all on the Shadow Games.

“Most of them, but-"

“Did you do any follow-up with anyone?”

“I checked that Weevil got his soul back, but other than that I couldn’t. I didn’t understand what was happening- oh.”

“Oh is right.” Now it’s Yugi’s turn to squeeze him tight. “You judge yourself more harshly than anyone else. You were trying your best in a really bad situation. And, yeah, your best was kind of, uh-"

“Vindictive? Sadistic? Wildly disproportionate?” Yugi hates the bitter regret in Atem’s voice.

“I was going to say misguided,” he says gently. “Because literally all you had for guidance was a single impulse, the one you destroyed all the rest of yourself to accomplish back in the day: protect. It’s a good impulse, but with nothing else informing it _at all_ the results can be a little… nuts.”

“I can’t help but feel you have incentive to be over-generous. You let people off the hook all the time; how much moreso your own husband?”

Yugi sighs. “Look, the whole idea of a scale, where everything you did in your life gets quantified and added and subtracted to get a binary result? That’s your belief, not mine. But since you do believe in it, there’s a good chance we’re going to have to face it.”

“...What do you mean by that?”

“Nevermind.” It’s probably best not to draw attention to the way almost everything down here corresponds somehow to Atem’s wishes and beliefs, even incorporating the Shinto traditions Yugi himself never took literally a day in his life. Every god and goddess Atem recognises is _exactly_ how he expects them to be, and the ones he doesn't recognise he still believes have a right to be there.

“My point is, yeah, I think trying to skip the scales is a good idea. Getting our hearts scooped out sounds like not a fun time all by itself. But if we _do_ have to face them?” He lifts up enough to rest their foreheads together and stares into Atem’s eyes. “Other me. Try to remember there’s a second column of deeds, okay? It includes lives saved, and yours numbers in the tens of billions. And if what you did in my body counts on one side, it also counts on the other.”

Atem looks hopeful for the first time. “If you’re correct, that would be one heavy feather.”

“Damn straight. If you can’t believe it for yourself, then believe it for me, okay? Now, I don’t know about you, but I think that’s more than enough worrying for one day. Do you need a nightcap to get to sleep?”

Atem frowns. “I dislike sake. I wish we had some beer.” His eyes widen. “Wait, I didn’t mean-" but it’s too late. The bell rings, and someone claps twice.

“Incoming! Get out of the bedroll in case it spills!” They scramble free and Yugi kneels on the sand, but the case of beer shows up in front of _Atem,_ alongside a huge round loaf of brown bread.

“This is an offering for Rosetta- _sama,_  known to a very few as Atem Mutou.”

Atem stares. “I know that voice: Dr. Ichijou. I translated… many, many works for her.”

“Some of my colleagues and I pieced together your identity decades ago, but chose to protect your privacy and dig no deeper.

I don’t know how you came to be fluent in six completely dead languages from five thousand years ago, one of them a _sign language_. The top theory is that you escaped a particularly extreme sect of the Tombkeeper cult, but it’s not a very good theory.”

Atem winces. “I never liked letting people believe that, but what could I do?”

“There is a crazier theory, although given your office’s protected location in the KaibaCorp building where they get up to all kinds of madness, maybe it’s not so crazy after all. Some people think maybe you spoke all those languages… because they were _yours._  That you were a time-traveler.”

Yugi feels like he might throw up. Atem looks about the same.

“This was never the dominant theory, but it also never went away, and it’s the reason we all kept as silent as we did about knowing who you were when you weren’t at work.

Regardless, you willingly decanted _all six languages_ over the better part of a century. I don’t think you were aware of the impact your translations had on the fields of anthropology, history, and linguistics. You were an earthquake, Rosetta- _sama_ , laying bare the foundations of everything your work touched. We know more about the societies of the Naqada III and Early Dynastic periods of Egypt than we do about certain Native American societies wiped out in the 18th century AD.

Goodness, I’m rambling. This beer is for you, and the bread also, both as authentic to the time period of your expertise as we could get them. Er, minus grinding the flour with sand. We don’t have any requests. We just wanted to say thank you.”

Slowly, Atem bends down and gathers up both items. Hoarsely, he says, “You’re welcome.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Mutou.”

They stare at each other for a long minute before Yugi speaks. “That’s another thing for you to consider. There's more to your life than one insane week after your coronation and then two insane years as my passenger. The things you did later count too.”

Atem holds the beer and bread close to his chest. “Maybe they do.”

Mahaad’s voice across the fire makes them both jump. _“You_ became a _scribe?”_

Atem straightens his back and tries to sound dignified as he says, “Yes. What of it?”

Yugi is treated to the terrifying spectacle of Mahaad’s face splitting into a grin, before he breaks down into peals of laughter - complete with rolling on the ground, hugging his sides and kicking his purple-booted feet in the air.

“Atem, what’s happening?”

“I was… perhaps not the most _enthusiastic_ student to ever attend the Prince’s School,” Atem admits. “But Mahaad is overreacting.”

“No I’m not!” Mahaad hoots. “Oh, oh, the _hours_ I spent correcting your penmanship to save you a beating! And you went on to _sell_ it for _money!”_

Yugi frowns. “Beatings?”

“Teachers used to say ‘a boy’s ear is on his back’, and a teacher who failed to educate the Prince would have been sacked. Mahaad did work hard to cover for me, but this is unseemly.” Atem looks highly annoyed. “Are you done?” he asks Mahaad.

Mahaad is winding down from his outburst, thankfully. A few more giggling sighs and he sits up, wiping tears from his eyes. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in ages.”

“That was the most disturbing thing I’ve seen since that goddess with the head of a wasp and the body of a hippo,” Yugi mutters, to Atem’s snort of amusement.

Mahaad sobers, though a glint of humor remains in his eye. “Is that really proper beer?”

“It’s impressively close,” says Atem. “There is a small but thriving historical re-enactment scene in Domino.” He cracks open a bottle and hands it to Mahaad, along with a chunk of bread ripped from the loaf. From the way Mahaad tastes both with caution and then digs in with enthusiasm, they pass muster.

“I wonder if I could get some monsters interested in historical re-enactment,” he says when he finishes.

Yugi points out, “Or you could just come visit us once we’re settled.”

Mahaad rubs his hands together briskly, then spreads his fingers toward the fire. Immediately the flames are reduced to small flickers among glowing embers. He gestures again and a single thread of flame streams up and becomes a glowing image: the same map they’ve been studying, but zoomed in to the area where the river widens into the delta, and now dotted with points of light: the gods and demons and spirits peopling the Duat.

“First,” says Mahaad, “we need a plan to get you there.”

“Two plans,” says Yugi.

* * *

Plan A goes to shit with breathtaking speed.

After four more days floating north, Yugi squints at the horizon, then gets to his feet, shades his eyes, and squints harder. “Oh, neat,” he says, “pyramids.”

Mahaad’s staff falls to the deck of the boat with a clatter. Atem drops the cards he was sorting. _“What?”_ they both exclaim.

“Uhhh, there are some pyramids up ahead? Right there, look.” Yugi points. “It’s cool that they exist down here as well as topside.”

“Partner,” Atem says urgently, “we shouldn’t be seeing them for another _two days.”_ They’d stopped checking their progress on the map because it was so boring. “We’ve passed our planned debarcation point.”

Yugi’s stomach feels like it falls into his shoes. “What? How could this happen?”

“The Nile must be flooding,” says Mahaad grimly. “It moves faster when it’s high. I didn't notice. This is what comes of staying away for five thousand years!”

Atem lunges for the rudder and pulls it to the side, harder than Yugi would have dared. The boat starts to veer for one shore, but then it wrenches back to straight again, so violently Atem’s hands are thrown off the handle. “Something’s keeping us away from the banks!”

“I think I know,” Mahaad says, voice hollow. “We made offerings to Anuket, but we neglected to account for the season and did not make offerings to-”

“Hapi,” Atem finishes for him. “Yugi, quickly, help me throw all the food and drink overboard.”

Yugi doesn’t argue, but as he gathers up mochi balls and oranges from where they roll back and forth in their space under a seat, he asks, “Who’s Hapi? You told me the goddess of the Nile was Anuket.”

“She is, but the god of the _flood_ is Hapi.” Atem cracks open bottle after bottle of beer and the one neglected bottle of sake, emptying them all into the water. “Hidden One in His cavern, whose true name is unknown,” he chants, “He appeareth in this land, and cometh in peace to make Egypt to live. Waterer of the fields which Ra hath created, He giveth life unto all animals, and maketh all the land to drink unceasingly as He descendeth on His way from heaven. In His name we make these offerings. Lord of the fishes and birds of the marshes, mighty Master of the River bringing vegetation, be satisfied and release us from Your current that we might live to praise Your name again.”

“Very well said,” intones a strange voice from the prow of the boat - to the jumping and yelling of most aboard -  “if _much_ too late.”

Yugi is really getting tired of the way gods can just instantly manifest in any space no one is looking at directly.

Hapi is - uh, something. His skin is a vivid blue, and He has a potbelly hanging over a belt with four thin strips of cloth dangling from it that hide _nothing at all_. Yugi forces his eyes up from that only to get stuck on the god’s sizeable, pendulous breasts. They leak two continuous streams of milk, which run all the way down to puddle around His feet where, yes, it does have the same murky pale tint as the water of the river itself. There are half a dozen frogs sitting in the puddle because why the fuck not, right?

Yugi has met entirely too many gods since dying. At least this guy is human-shaped. He even has a human face: headdress, false beard, sclera-less eyes as black as river silt. Unfortunately His facial expression is _pissed._

“Four days hence I swelled the river in its banks and sped you toward your goal,” He says, “and you only think to thank Me now?”

Atem bows deeply, not a trace of stiffness or reluctance in his posture. These are his _gods._ For all that he sang the sun up almost every morning of their lives together, and painted charms in every new home any friend or family moved into, Yugi is only now coming to really grasp the depth of Atem’s belief.

“A thousand upon thousand apologies, Lord,” he says smoothly, “we are long away from Egypt, and entirely new to the Duat; we missed the signs of Your arrival. We beg You to be gracious, O Bountiful One.”

Hapi sighs heavily. “Above, I am contained by the Aswan High Dam, and by My believers having dwindled to a meager few dilettantes. Below, you are the first pilgrims in the Duat in I don’t know how long: a pale foreigner, an  _ushabti_ summoned from the Monster Realm, and - you.” He stares at Atem for a long time, looking puzzled, then shrugs and announces, “I find I am feeling neither bountiful nor gracious today. I will not help you continue your scheme of sneaking where you will. You wanted a shortcut on the river, and that is what you will get - all the way to the end. Give My regards to Thoth, Anubis…” he grins sharply, “...and Ammit.”

All at once, his form turns to milky water and collapses with a splash. The frogs leap over the edge and vanish into the river, which abruptly swells so much more that even Yugi notices it. They almost seem to be caught at the front of a massive wave moving upstream.

“He's speeding us north even faster,” Atem shouts to Mahaad over the growing roar of the river.

“He intends to crash us directly at the Scales!” Mahaad shouts back.

“It may be time to summon some flying monsters.”

“I’ll get the case!” Yugi scrambles to reach it, but as soon as his hand closes around the handle the roar becomes deafening and the boat is lifted so high they now appear to be surfers in a tsunami. The last thing Yugi notices is the pyramids getting closer and closer, gleaming in the afternoon undersun. Then the boat overbalances and they’re falling, falling, falling into the roiling grey-white froth, and Yugi notices nothing for a long time.

* * *

Atem comes to on his knees, with his arms bound behind his back and his ankles bound to each other, and for one pleasantly fuzzy moment he thinks Yugi put him there and he fell asleep. But there is nothing beneath his cheek: not Yugi’s thigh, nor the upholstery of their couch, nor even their bedspread; and he is chilled, damp, and in considerable pain all over.

Also, when he looks up there are nine guards in jackal masks aiming drawn bows at him. Kaiba’s card case is off to one side behind them.

“Other me!” Yugi says urgently. “Are you all right? Say something!” He’s not far away - although too far to reach without getting them both riddled with arrows - and appears to be in a similar position.

“Where’s Mahaad?”

“He tried to stop those guys-" he nods at the guards, “from seizing you, and he was banished by _those guys.”_ Atem knows who he means before he looks; the trepidation in his voice says it all.

Anubis is easily distinguished from His guards by being twice their size, black as polished obsidian all over (except where He wears a leopard skin like a cloak), and with the head of a living, breathing jackal instead of a mask. Thoth is somehow even more imposing, inhumanly still except when He moves with birdlike quickness and precision, the long curving beak of His ibis head reflecting the light from His moon-crown. Both of them are standing and regarding Atem and Yugi with arms crossed.

Behind them, the Scales, and behind _those,_ a hulking, beastly shape: Ammit. The Devourer.

“I dislike processing married couples together,” Anubis says to Thoth.

“Nothing to be done about it now. Here they are.”

“Who shall I do first?”

Thoth cocks His head. “The foreigner, I suppose. Then we shall figure out what to do about the strange one.”

“Very well.” Anubis unsheathes a knife and advances on Yugi.

Atem breaks. _“No!”_ He lunges to try and intercept the god, no matter that he has to shuffle on his knees.

“Hold them,” Anubis orders the guards. The bows are put down and strong hands close around Atem’s upper arms. He thrashes furiously, and more hands close over his ankles. He twists and tries to bite, and a final pair of hands secures his head. He is forced to watch as Yugi is similarly restrained, and then Anubis moves in close.

“Yugi!” Atem did not plan for how frantic he would be at the sight of Yugi immobilized and helpless, his tunic parting for the knife as easily as cobwebs being brushed aside. Yugi lets slip a tiny whimper when the blade touches his skin, and all Atem’s reverence, the respect for the gods bred into him down to the bone, is eclipsed and shattered in the blink of an eye. His voice claws up from the base of his spine and tears his throat when he roars, _“Don’t you hurt him!”_

Anubis looks at him, down His long elegant desert-dog nose, and gives him a slow blink, disdain in every line of His posture. “Please. I know My business better than _that.”_

It’s over in two flicks of His knife: one outside along the border of Yugi’s left ribs, and then one inside the bloodless hole, Anubis’s long slim hand reaching up and in. Yugi makes no sound, doesn’t even flinch, only blinks as his heart is withdrawn.

“Interesting,” he says, in the most disinterested voice Atem has ever heard in his life. It makes his skin crawl. “I didn’t feel a thing, and now I _can’t_ feel _anything_.”

“I am very good at what I do,” Anubis says, turning Yugi’s heart over in His hands, palpating it with a light, clinical touch and peering at it with professional interest. “And all your feeling is in here, in your _jb_ . Keep him restrained, guards; he will be _very_ angry at us for making his husband witness this once he gets it back. _If_ he gets it back.” He strides up to the Scales.

Thoth takes up a papyrus and quill. “Name?”

“Yugi Mutou, son of Michiko,” says Yugi.

“Age?”

“One hundred.”

“Do you wish to take this opportunity to recite the Forty-Two Negative Confessions?”

“I don’t know what those are.”

Thoth peers at Yugi. “How does an _akh_ arrive here successfully, knowing nothing of a standard litany in the Book of the Dead?” He asks, sounding for the first time mildly curious instead of unutterably bored.

“With the guidance of my husband and our friend.”

“Some guidance. Hapi hasn’t been that stirred-up since before the dam was erected topside.” He waves at Anubis. “Proceed with weighing the heart.”

Atem’s innards turn to water; he can barely work his mouth to speak through his terrified urgency. “Thoth! Listen to me! There is a special circumstance of sins upon that _jb!_  They are mine, committed when Yugi hosted my _ba_ as a guest within his _khat!_ I wish to make some Positive Confessions!”

Yugi looks over at Atem, his face still horribly placid. “This is not what we planned.”

“I am not strong enough for Plan B, as it turns out,” Atem mutters back, then pitches his voice louder again. “Thoth? Will you remove the weight of my sins from Yugi’s heart?”

Thoth nods slowly. “I can arrange that. I will add weights to the feather side now to compensate, and move them to the heart side when it is your turn. Proceed.”

Atem runs through the same report he gave Yugi days ago. Thoth asks questions surprisingly similar to the ones Yugi did, many of which Atem cannot answer: how many deaths versus permanent injuries, what do you mean you don’t know, why are you counting this if you were in that state and Yugi never had any idea, etc.

Eventually He sets down His papyrus and quill and gives Atem a long look. “Lucky for you, wasting My time to feed your guilt is not a sin.”

“It’s not like we don’t have all the time in the world,” Anubis mutters.

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Thoth replies in the same tone, fingers flicking through an abacus. He reaches into His desk, and draws out a bowl of variously-sized stones. He selects one, hefts its weight for a moment, then nods and gets up, moving to one side of the Scales. In His other hand, a Feather of Ma’at appears. It’s an ostrich plume, huge and somehow extremely beautiful - and Thoth’s arm jerks as He bears its sudden weight.

“I don’t think you needed to worry, stranger,” He says, voice warming slightly. “Your husband was a good man.”

Atem sags in the guards’ grip, but he won’t truly relax until the deed is actually done.

Yugi says, “It would have been a better move to wait to confess until you knew if it was necessary, like we planned.” His flat tone makes Atem want to throw up.

“I couldn’t risk it. You’ll understand when you get your heart back.”

Anubis goes to the other side of the Scales. He and Thoth look at each other, nod, and in perfect unison place Yugi’s heart on one plate, and the Feather and stone on the other.

The Feather side sags so deeply it almost touches the ground. Ammit hisses her disappointment, and Atem lets out a huge sigh of relief, now shaky with excess adrenaline.

Anubis takes up Yugi’s heart and returns. Behind Him, Thoth puts away Yugi’s Feather and transfers the stone to the other side, where Atem’s heart will be weighed.

With an alarming squelch, Anubis stows Yugi’s heart back inside his chest, and seals the incision by drawing His finger along it. Yugi blinks, gasps - and lunges for Anubis with an enraged shriek, so fast the guards stagger to keep hold of him.

“You’re sick!” he yells. “Making him watch that! Who do you think You are?”

“Foremost among the Westerners, First Judge of the Dead,” Anubis says promptly. “Gatekeeper to His Majesty Osiris, King of the Duat, and this is _exactly_ why _akhs_ normally come before Me _one at a time.”_ He turns away from Yugi and regards Atem, who glowers back.  

“Thoth, are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Yes. He’s an odd one for sure.”

“Is he even an _akh?”_

 _Osiris said I was,_ Atem thinks, but he is feeling too resentful of these two to help Them do their jobs by volunteering the information.

“Judge him and find out, I suppose.”

Anubis shrugs, and quick as a biting dog the knife flashes and He has Atem’s heart in His hand.

Yugi was right: it doesn’t hurt. Their bodies are just ideas down here. Also like Yugi said, abruptly Atem feels nothing, just a yawning emptiness. But unlike Yugi, this state is not unfamiliar to him. He spent five thousand years this way, after all.

 

 **“ Ǐ̧̫̩̮͎̝̈́̅̕͜͞ W̱͚̣̥̘͋̈͑̐̚A̢͍̗̪̻͂̽̾̊͊̆̃͛͢S̛̠͇͎̫͚̩̖̝̑̊̆̄̀̒͜͡ Ȗ̴͍̬̹̹̗̩̋̏͆̍̇͢͢͞Ṡ̸̭̠͇̻̥͉͌̅̄̚ͅÏ̷̞̜̼̳̼̻̳̾͛͐͋̒Ņ̣̼̤̥͙̙̘̜̆̃̔̓̐̈́̌͡Ḡ̺͎̠̜̩̀̔̓̈́͊̈́̅͡ͅ T̡̢̯̰̖͇̥́͑̉̌͌̅͛͊͜͜͟H̸͓̣̪̜̭̀̀̅̅̾͑͌̓͡A̧̢̹͕̠̗͈̩̥̅͋͂̍̾̊̑̂ͅT͎͓̺͍̞͌̋̿́͢͝ .”** ̴

 

It turns to smoke and slips its bonds, and the hands of the guards. It grows until it is twice the height of Anubis, who would be lost in its shadow but for the yellow light cast by its three eyes.

Anubis backs up slowly, hunching His shoulders, lip curling back to reveal white wolf-teeth. “Thoth? What is that?”

It’s Yugi who answers. “Now you’ve done it. That’s the Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle. Minus the Puzzle.”

It is never minus the Puzzle. The Puzzle is a state of mind. The Puzzle protects the secrets that keep the world from crumbling. A breeze stirs around it as it marshals its power, dormant for a little while: just eight decades. No time at all, really.

Thoth shuts His open beak with an effort. “Whatever it is, it still has a _jb,_ so we can still weigh it.” He picks up His papyrus and quill again.

Then He makes a terrible mistake. He asks, “Name?”

 

 **“ .Ň̸̨͚̩͎͍͉̒͛̈̂̓́̋̕͠Õ̴̧̱̳̯͚̭̻̩͔̣̆͐̿͗̈͆̊̎͝N̶̨̜̞̮̅̊̃̽̊̏ͅE̵̡̛̝̙̻̮̬͇̙̎̄̒̈́̕͟ M̸̺̥̲̤̥̲̭̖̼̒̊͑͆͛̎̚͟Â̜̦͍̠̯̦̭͂̽̉̇̒̉̉͟Y̷̩̻̹͕͆̓̓̌͗̈́͒͆̕ͅ K̨̺̫̣̓̐̎̊̕͟͞Ṅ̡̳̥̥̱̦̅͆̏͒͞͠͝ͅŌ̰̞̦̭͋̌̾͢W̠̮̙̮̓̅̏̃͒͑ .”̘** ****

The wind picks up speed until it is howling, just like _it_ howled when it no longer had words. It has its words now, all its thoughts and memories, but with no way to _feel_ it has no idea what to do with the information.

Besides hide it, of course.

It raises the smoky idea of one arm, and sand begins to coalesce into a wall near the Scales, toppling them as the wall rises under their base. Ammit hisses, and can be seen waddling away into the distance.

“Let me go!” Yugi shouts to the horrorstruck gods. “I can help! He trusts me!”

“That _thing_ trusts no one.”

“You’re wrong! Let me go so I can prove it, before he turns this whole area into a maze!”

Anubis looks at Thoth. “He knocked over the _Scales._ What have we got to lose?”

Thoth nods. Anubis barks at the guards, “Release him, but if he runs away, shoot him!”

The wind builds from a howl to a screech. None may harm Yugi. _Yugi_ is a secret who keeps the world from crumbling; he should run away if he thinks it best. The guards are knocked flat on their backs, and pinned there by bands of sandstone.

Yugi doesn’t run away. He moves toward the spirit, leaning into the wind, shielding his eyes from sand with his forearm. It slows the wind enough to only stir the sand around their feet. Yugi notices, and drops his arm, and looks up at the pillar of smoke and glowing eyes.

“You still know me, don’t you?”

It nods. It will not subject Yugi to the horror of its voice.

“And I know you. I _know_ you, other me. You lost your heart, didn’t you?”

It nods again. It would knock Anubis down if He weren’t still cradling its _jb_ in His hands.

“That’s okay. You can borrow mine, like you did before.”

It gestures to its chest. How can it do that, with the physical Puzzle long gone?

“We don’t need the Puzzle to become one. Just _let me in.”_ His voice is low and warm and commanding, and the spirit knows how to heed that voice as well as it knows how to do anything. So when Yugi walks right inside it and spreads welcoming arms, it does as he asks.

Light flares, the wind stops, and Atem is left crouching on the sand, hugging his midsection as he gasps for air and trembles with delayed reaction.

There is still a gaping hole in his chest, but _inside him,_ Yugi radiates peace, comfort, safety, and love, love, love. Had he always reverberated with this much love, and Atem deliberately forgot how it felt to avoid resenting being in his own separate body? No, he doesn’t think so. This is the love of someone who spent a lifetime loving him. He has felt this love curled around his back in sleep, or weighing him down from the front and pushing out his fears, or gently dominating his will and body to drive him out of his mind with pleasure. He has felt this love shushing their babies in the wee hours of the morning so he can sleep, cleaning up diapers and vomit and wet bedsheets, and grateful when Atem took a turn doing the same; moving around him in the kitchen as they cook or do the dishes or help their children (and then grandchildren) with their homework; standing with him at weddings (their own and others), sitting with him in hospitals and at funerals, taking his hand on thousands of walks; weathering the indignities of old age with him. This is the love Atem delayed his rest to share in, quite literally the love of his life.

 _I can feel you,_ he thinks, and Yugi’s heart lets him feel wonder at that, and the surge of warmth that would be Yugi smiling, if he were phased out enough to be visible. On the whole, Atem is glad he hasn’t; after the scare they just had, he wants to be as close as humanly - or inhumanly - possible.

 _Pretty cool move, huh? I just believed I could do it, and I did it. This place is neat that way._ Yugi’s pride is well-deserved, his relief understandable.

 _You are_ brilliant.

 _It only worked because you believed it could too, and because you did what I asked. You did_ so _well._ Atem squirms a little at his reaction to that pulse of rich approval, understandable given how often he feels it while spread out and penetrated somehow - though he’ll never be more penetrated than _this…_

_Hold that thought. There are a few things we need to do first._

_Yes._  Atem stands up.

Anubis and Thoth are staring at him. “How are you doing that?” asks Thoth at last.

When Atem opens his mouth, his voice is his and Yugi’s together. **“This is how we began.”**

He looks around, at the fallen Scales with a partially-formed wall propping up the base on a graceless diagonal; at the guards still pinned to the ground with bands of sandstone. **“We apologize for this. You are just doing your jobs. We will set it right.”**

Atem raises his hand, and the wall and the restraints dissolve back into loose sand. He gestures, and the Scales rise back up to the vertical and settle on their base once again. As an afterthought, he retrieves the stone representing Atem’s sins in Yugi’s body - although he can feel Yugi’s mind pointing out that Thoth chose a pebble of no significant weight - and returns it to the heart plate.

**“Please, continue.”**

Thoth is nothing if not a stickler for protocol. Badly shaken as He is, He still gathers up His papyrus and quill and asks, “Name?”

By himself, Atem replies, “Atem Mutou, son of Aknamkanon.” Anubis twitches, and pricks up His ears.

“Age?”

“Approximately five thousand, one hundred.”

“The Nameless Pharaoh!” Anubis exclaims with amazement. “I remember the prayers that were said for you by Pharaoh Seth, requesting clemency because there was nothing to embalm - but you never arrived. Because _you_ became the Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle! It all makes sense now!”

“Calm yourself,” Thoth admonishes.

 _Down boy,_ says Yugi inside Atem’s head. Atem has to strive not to laugh, and can’t hold back a small smile.

“It is _deeply_ disturbing to see someone smile without a heart,” Anubis remarks.

“We are sharing mine,” says Yugi’s voice.

“Unless you would prefer me to revert to that other state again?” says Atem.

“No, no,” Anubis says hastily, “carry on.”

“Do you wish to take this opportunity to recite the Forty-Two Negative Confessions?”

“I am no more familiar with them than Yugi is. Lot of newfangled rubbish if you ask me.”

_Haha, you said ‘newfangled’. Old man._

_Hush._ The truth is Atem chose that phrasing on purpose, just to feel Yugi’s glee.

“I agree,” Anubis confides. “It’s not like Thoth’s wife Ma’at doesn’t know _everything.”_

“Would you _stop_ fraternising with the most troublesome _akhs_ to come through here in years!”

“They’re the _only akhs_ to come through here in years.”

Thoth actually squawks with annoyance. “Weigh that heart before it dries out.” They take up Their positions, and Atem’s Feather of Ma’at appears in Thoth’s hand - and its weight nearly knocks Him off His feet. When it and Atem’s _jb_ are weighed against each other, the Feather side clanks onto the ground and stays there.

 _I_ told _you,_ Yugi thinks, _tens of billions of lives saved._

“As if the poor Scales haven’t been dented enough for one day,” Thoth sniffs. “Take your heart, Atem.” As Anubis is putting it back in, Thoth continues, “We must call a recess before escorting you to Osiris. We need to retrieve Ammit before she causes any more trouble than she indubitably has. Meet Us back here at dawn.”

Atem bows deeply, and he and Yugi say together, **“Thank you. We will be there.”** He picks up the card case and walks until he’s out of sight of the Scales, and then as far again. Then he crouches down, opens the card case, and pulls one out. “I summon Dark Magician!”

Mahaad materializes in a battle stance, staff out and wild-eyed. “Atem! What happened? _Where’s Yugi?”_

“I’m here, Mahaad,” Yugi’s voice says.

Mahaad does a double-take, then collects himself into his usual upright posture as he stares at Atem. “You… you merged. Why?”

“Turns out Atem needs a heart even more than most people.”

“I took the form of the Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle as soon as Anubis removed my heart for weighing,” Atem explains. “Without a _jb_ for guidance I saw no reason not to.”

“It was badass,” says Yugi, “until he looked about ready to start making the Duat into the inside of the Millennium Puzzle right there. So I, uh, stepped in. Literally.”

Mahaad nods slowly. “Can you step _out_ again?”

“I think so, when we’re ready. It was pretty scary, so this is - good. For right now. And, well, we haven’t been like this for a long time, and never _exactly_ like this. If we never figure out how to do it again, there’s - a couple of things we want to do while we have the opportunity.”

Mahaad’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want another tent to defile?”

Atem blushes violently as Yugi says, “Not, uh, not to the same extent as last time. Just for some privacy?”

“You know, Atem,” Mahaad comments as he directs a swirling mist of light to coalesce into a small tent, “when I pledged my eternal loyalty I didn’t picture myself enabling bizarre possessed marital relations.”

“If it makes you feel any better, the - relations started back when _I_ was possessing _Yugi.”_

“It does not. Please stop talking.” The tent looks solid, and Mahaad steps back. “I will stand watch, _out of earshot.”_

Atem ducks inside, and Yugi takes control and throws his body down on the bedroll. They take a moment to stare up at the roof of the tent, relaxing for the first time since their boat crashed.

“I forgot how stressful adventures are,” says Yugi. Atem snorts a laugh.

“I think Anubis is right when He says people are meant to face that trial alone. It’s far more dramatic to witness than to experience.”

“Except when it’s you.” Yugi’s tone is teasing and fond.

“Apparently.” Atem is silent for a moment, then says, “I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

“You didn’t. You couldn’t.” Atem can feel the truth of that, and it soothes him more than he knew he needed. And as Yugi’s mind nestles against his own, he learns something new that surprises him.

“You… you were _jealous.”_

“Definitely,” Yugi snarls. “It made me crazy to see Anubis put His hands on you, all up inside you. Who gave Him the fucking right?”

“Amun, I think?”

Yugi squirms in Atem’s body, and Atem’s breath catches. “And… I was jealous that They got to see you like that, all shadow and light. It felt like something They didn’t deserve to see, even if you _did_ give them a good scare. You were pretty impressive out there. So fierce and powerful. It makes me feel better about all the dangerous crap that happened to me and my friends when we were kids, to know you were on our side the whole time. And - I thought it was actually kind of hot?”

_“Really.”_

“Especially the way that even in, uh, an altered state, you still listened to me. I - really liked that a lot.”

“I can tell you did.” Atem can feel how much of an understatement that is; his cock is rapidly approaching full hardness courtesy of Yugi. “This is an extraordinary sensation; your feelings in my body. I barely remember it from when you first seduced me, and then it was in reverse.”

“We moved into the soul rooms so fast because we wanted to touch each other so bad, we never tried it this way again,” Yugi says, palming Atem’s dick with Atem’s hand and shivering deliciously. “Took it for granted. I’d be lying if I said I never had any fantasies about something like this over the years.”

“So would I,” Atem admits. “Especially like _this._ This is - you can touch _everything.”_ He is suffused with Yugi, saturated by him, down to the last cell and thought.

“I sure can. And know instantly how each touch makes you feel.” Yugi wriggles out of the torn remnants of Atem’s tunic (Anubis is definitely hard on clothes) and rubs Atem’s hands up and down Atem’s body; Atem cedes control to him and his stomach swoops in a deep thrill as his hands travel over his skin without any conscious volition of his own.

“Yeah. _Yeah._ I can definitely work with this. Oh, wow, Atem, I can see why you’re so willing to go along with my weird ideas when it makes you feel like _this.”_

“Likewise,” Atem gasps; it’s extremely heady to simultaneously feel his own languid surrender and Yugi’s exultant reaction. Not to mention their doubled arousal.

Yugi reaches Atem’s nipples and fingers the barbells there, and slams Atem’s head back into the pillows as his body bows up. “Holy _shit._ How do you _cope_ with these things when they feel _this good?”_ Atem’s skin is breaking out into a fine sweat already.

“You may - ah! - recall the months after they were finally healed when I barely _could_ cope,” Atem pants.

“I do recall. Even more of a Magic Orgasm Button than your sweet spot. Speaking of…”

“Gods! I’m not going to last. Save - save it for round two.”

Yugi grasps his cock firmly at the base and tightens his grip. “Nuh-uh. I’m not risking another infinite sex marathon until we’re somewhere we can clean up without giving an ornery river god an eyeful. Simmer down.”

Atem huffs but doesn’t try to wrest control of his hand - and then bucks his hips up with a gasp as his compliance makes _Yugi_ even more aroused. _“You_ simmer down,” he grumbles.

“Okay. Yeah. Fair point.” Atem can feel Yugi’s mind racing as he searches for a non-sexy topic. “I think the kids must have found the toybox under our bed by now.”

_“What?”_

“Or some of the grandkids, I dunno. _Somebody_ had to clear our place out. I’ve been wondering if they thought to cremate it with us, or bury it with our ashes maybe - that’s a lot of metal to shove into a crematorium, but then so was your hip.”

Atem seizes control of his free hand to cover his eyes and groan like he’s dying. Again.

“Anyway, if they did, maybe we can get the box _here,_ but - I can’t face whatever we’d hear along with it. There’s no way it wouldn’t be the worst combination of mortifying and sad. I’d really rather just rustle up new gear from craftsmen or whatever in Aaru… Shit. Too much of a boner-killer?”

“You may have overshot a little. You can definitely drop this topic now.”

“Or take a 90-degree turn. I’m looking _forward_ to not being vagrants anymore.” Yugi loosens his grip on Atem’s cock (now softer than planned) and gropes it and his balls affectionately before starting to run his hands up and down his torso - warm, confident stroking that quickly brings Atem’s attention back where Yugi wants it. “A hot bath, with _soap._ A real bed, behind a _door,_ that _shuts._ With a little luck it’ll have posts and I can tie you up properly.”

Atem shivers. “So you don’t want to stay like this forever.”

“Definitely not. I can’t suck your cock or fuck you with mine like this, now can I?” Yugi fiddles with a nipple piercing and sighs happily when Atem whimpers. His cock _aches_ as it gets hard again, almost like he did come once already.

“Oh, fuck, that’s so sweet,” Yugi whispers. “I can feel how intense that is for you, and you’re just _taking_ it for me. Ungh, God, you’re so good.” Atem’s toes curl at the praise, and at the strangest tangle of embarrassed pleasure in knowing Yugi knows _just_ how much he likes it.

And the feedback loop includes Yugi, too. Atem remembers what it was like to be sheltered within Yugi’s body, feeding all his ragged empty spaces with Yugi’s warmth and kindness, joys and insights, like Yugi was a cocoon of humanity around him. There were still times when he felt like that even after being resurrected. Now though, it’s like Yugi is a miniature sun glowing inside him. Atem is keenly aware of the way his body contains him and protects him.

“That’s how I felt about you,” Yugi says, jacking his cock again and sucking messily on his fingers. “Carrying you around. Keeping you safe.”

He spreads Atem’s legs and brings Atem’s wet fingers between them, feeling for his hole. “It was like…” Now Yugi’s the one too embarrassed to get words out.

“Say it,” Atem urges, and stealthily cants his hips to encourage Yugi to breach him.

Yugi does, and Atem’s shuddering moan is in both their voices at once. “It was like… like I was pregnant with you.” Yugi says it shyly, as if the concept can hold a candle to the stunningly filthy things he does to Atem every chance he gets.

Yugi adds a second finger and pushes deep. “Seriously? That’s w-what you think about it? I think that’s - oh, fuck! - the freakiest thing I’ve ever said.”

“C-consider the gods you’ve met - ah! - so far down here,” Atem says, voice wobbling as Yugi finds his prostate and rubs it firmly. “Not such a - hhaa - foreign concept for me. More of a bed- bedtime story.”

“There is that.” Atem can feel that Yugi is obscurely cheered by Atem’s point - and then he releases the thread of thought to turn all his focus on Atem, hot and intent.

Atem writhes, and Yugi with him, as he moves Atem’s fingers in his ass and jacks at Atem’s cock. It’s mindbending, to give control of his own muscles and nerves over like this, something he’s only fantasized about and now finds feels even better than he imagined.

“I - can do _anything_ to you, ngh, and f-feel it all,” Yugi pants. Atem tosses his head, unable to contain the feeling of both of them speeding toward orgasm at once, not and respond in any coherent way. “You’ll let me have it all.”

He can’t say it, so he thinks it: _Yes. Always._

They give in to the feeling then, ass clenching as they fuck in deep with their fingers, cock jerking and spitting in the desperate squeeze of their hand, the swelling arousal in their abdomen bursting and flooding their body as they throw their head back and shout their joy in two voices, over and over as pleasure swamps them in waves.

Finally it recedes, and Yugi lets go of his cock and gingerly pulls his fingers free. Atem sprawls out and lies there like a beached fish, sucking air and feeling his skin cool as his sweat evaporates, feeling slow echoes of pleasure pulse through him.

 _“I_ wouldn’t mind if we stayed like this forever,” he admits quietly.

“That’s because not long ago, you got like two months’ worth of dicked-down all at once, love,” Yugi says lazily. “You’ll be back to needing regular feedings pretty soon.” Atem's face heats, and Yugi smirks. “And I’d miss blowing you. You’re a bendy guy, but you’re not _that_ flexible.”

Atem groans, and Yugi continues to list the perks of two bodies. “Tying you up and touching you all over, can’t do that. Feeding you while you’re lying around all fucked-out. Spooning, kissing, hugging-" Atem interrupts him.

“Point taken! You’re right: two bodies is better.”

Yugi concentrates, and Atem’s sense of him becomes closed-off somehow, like he’s turning inward instead of radiating outward. Atem tries to remember how it felt when they merged, and tries to imagine how it would feel to perform the reverse.

There is a breathless, disorienting lurch, and then suddenly Yugi is lying beside him, wide-eyed and grinning.

“I can’t believe that worked! We pulled it off without asking Mahaad for help!”

“And a good thing too, considering we got you back but not your clothes.” Yugi is wearing his wedding band and nothing else.

Yugi wrinkles his nose. “Wait, does that mean a ripped-up tunic is floating around in your soul somewhere? Like a surgical sponge?”

“It was conjured, so I very much doubt it. I’ll ask Mahaad for another one."

“Make it two. Yours is pretty much ruined as well, and we should probably look decent for tomorrow.”

Mahaad is relieved not to have to burn this tent with fire, and readily resupplies them with clothes. If this second set of outfits has almost too much jewelry to be appropriate for non-Pharaohs, well, it’s not like Yugi will know.

Yes, there are perks to being two instead of one.

Still, they wind themselves extra-tightly together in their bedroll to doze the last few hours before dawn, and Yugi says into his ear, “I love you every way, you know. Inside, outside. Ghost copying my face, strangely attractive tantrum-throwing glowy smoke tornado. Ripped twenty-something and Pop-Pop with a cane. Doesn’t matter. I love _you._ You know that, right?”

Atem swallows hard. “I do. And - likewise.” Although if Yugi ever had cause to look like a tornado, Atem feels sure he would be pure light. He drifts off imagining it. It _is_ strangely attractive.

* * *

When dawn comes at the Scales, at first it looks like the three of them are alone.

Yugi puts his hands on his hips. “Rude.”

“Apologies for being late,” says Thoth behind them. They whirl to look, and at first see nothing, then notice that He is in the form of an only slightly oversized sacred ibis, so just over knee-high.

A jet-black jackal trots up beside Him. “Ammit didn’t want to get in her crate.”

“O-kay,” Yugi says slowly, not quite wanting to know how one crates a hippo-sized crocodile chimera.

“Come, spirits - and, er, monster _ushabti.”_ Anubis doesn’t do anything so undignified as wag His tail or prance, but the impression that He’s excited to go for a walk is strong anyway. “Let us depart.”

Atem takes his hand and they follow the dog and bird across the sand, Mahaad close behind. “I’ve never heard of Thoth participating in escort duty,” Atem whispers.

“It’s gotta be pretty quiet around here these days,” Yugi whispers back, “probably nice for Them to have a reason to get out and about.”

“Stay close,” Mahaad advises, “I remember reading that without Anubis as a guide, there is nothing past the Scales but infinite desert. But not _too_ close,” he adds - still offended at being so summarily dismissed for the heart-scooping.

They walk for what must be an hour or two, though it somehow feels like they cover a great deal more distance than that. At last they come to a huge wall, and in the middle of the wall is a pair of massive gates. The gates stand open, and in between them is the figure of another god.

Atem’s hand tightens on Yugi’s. “Osiris,” he breathes. “Yugi, I know these are my gods, not yours, and that not all of them have made a good impression, but Osiris is solely responsible for resurrecting me. Everything we had together is thanks to Him, and He is the High King of the land where we will spend the rest of our days.”

Yugi squares his shoulders. “I’ll be on my best behaviour.”

Osiris is no less vividly strange than the rest of the gods Yugi has met: He’s wearing mummy wrappings, and His skin is the exact green of new sprouts. He’s wearing a tall pharaonic crown and wielding a crook and flail. Oh, and He’s _enormous_ , twenty feet tall if He’s an inch. In their animal forms, Anubis and Thoth look like toys at His feet.

As soon as they are almost too close to see His face without craning their necks so far back they fall over, Atem folds gracefully to his knees and presses his forehead to the ground. Yugi thinks about copying him, but worries it would look as fake as it felt, and instead presses his palms together and gives Him a very deep bow at the waist, staying a step behind Atem.

“Hail, Osiris, King of the Living Ones, Lord of Silence, He Who is Permanently Benign and Youthful,” Atem states, and his tone is very different from the dutiful respect he offered Hapi. This is absolutely sincere gratitude and reverence.

“Rise, Atem, son of Aknamkanon.” Osiris’s voice is very odd to hear: quiet and mild, but with a quality that suggests everyone can hear Him for miles around. “Is this the one for whom you delayed your rest?”

“He is, Lord.” Atem takes Yugi’s hand and pulls him to stand beside him. “May I present Yugi Mutou, King of Games, Champion of the Pharaoh, Saviour of Existence - and my partner and husband.” His voice rings with the exact same conviction with which he addressed Osiris a moment ago.

“It seems you made good use of My gift, then. This pleases Me.” Osiris inclines His head to look at Atem more directly. His face remains placid, but Yugi thinks he sees a hint of - something - in His posture. “Atem. Do you recall the last words I said to you, the first time you set foot in the Duat?”

“Go to your champion, and love him in fullness,” Atem recites, clearly quoting, squeezing Yugi’s hand, “as compensation for your many deeds. When death comes for you both, may you guide him safely through the Duat and…” Atem goes pale.

“And?” Osiris prompts patiently.

“... and pass into Aaru as princes of the royal family,” Atem finishes, falling back gracelessly onto his ass, legs out straight in front of him. He looks up at Yugi. “That entire fiasco at the Scales was for _nothing._ We could have bypassed the weighing as royals.” He throws himself flat on his back and digs the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I _knew_ I was forgetting something!”

Osiris says, “Do not trouble yourself overmuch, Prince. It reflects well on you both that you passed anyway, and is a fitting conclusion to the story of your journey through the Duat, which is by far the most excitement this domain has had in a very long time.”

Thoth hops forward. “It _is_ a good story,” he admits, “and as recompense for the damage to the Scales, I wish to be present for the telling of the tales.”

“The what?” says Yugi.

Atem clears his throat. “Ah. Yes. The _very_ last of Osiris’ words to me were, ‘pass into Aaru as princes of the royal family, and tell Us all the tales of your journeys’.” He looks rueful. “It seems we’re going to have to sing for our supper, partner. Although, truth be told, with my family and friends waiting on the other side that was going to be inevitable.”

Yugi hasn’t washed with hot water and soap in almost three weeks, his feet hurt, and he’s hungry. He looks at Atem as pitifully as he can. “Right _now?”_

Osiris makes a small hum of amusement and actually cracks a slight smile, which Yugi can already tell is about as shocking as Mahaad howling with laughter. “No. Come in, get settled. Storytelling can begin when you are ready. We have all the time in the world.”

He raises a giant hand and the gates swing wider, then steps to one side. Beyond Him, the sight of so much green is shocking after so long looking at nothing but desert and river.

“We made it,” Atem says, “Aaru.” He sounds shy. “I hope you like it here.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“There are some people I’ve been waiting to introduce you to.”

Yugi takes a deep breath. “A hundred years old and I finally have to meet my in-laws.”

* * *

“I _love_ this _bed_ ,” Yugi moans. “I don’t even know what it looks like yet ‘cause it was dark when we finally landed on it, but I love it.”

“I think we may have slept for two straight days,” Atem says into Yugi’s belly button, “it is indeed a good bed.”

Yugi pries open gluey eyelids. “Posts! Nice! Wish I had my box of goodies.”

Atem goes rigid. “Yugi!”

“Oh, shit, wait wait wait, I take it back, I didn’t mean it…” but it’s too late. A familiar and innocuous plastic toolbox is already materializing on the bed.

A woman’s voice says, “This, uh, should go with them.”

Yugi gasps. “Azami.”

A man’s voice says, “Why, what’s in it?”

“Tanyu, don’t open-"

“Holy shit.”

A sigh. “Why don’t you ever _listen?”_

“Holy _shit._ Gramps and Pop-Pop were _kinky?”_

“You’re seriously just figuring that out now? What did you _think_ all the collars and cuffs were about?”

“I thought they were goth! Or punk! Or whatever that old-timey fashion was called!”

“Gramps was _kinda_ punk, but no. No.”

“My innocence is shattered. My worldview will never be the same.”

“And just think, this could all have been avoided by _listening to me.”_

“Yeah, yeah, big sister knows best once again. So why is, uh, _that_ , here?”

“I told you: I think it should go with them. Doesn’t seem right to just toss it out when it was something that made them happy.”

“I _guess_. Hey, do you think Mom or Uncle Sugoroku knew?”

 _“Don’t_ tell them, on the off chance they didn’t.”

“Fair enough.” There is a long pause, and then, “Hey, Azami?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really gonna miss them.”

“Yeah. Me too. They had it as good as it gets - going together at 100, in their own bed, still both themselves, all of that - and it still doesn’t seem fair.”

“Well, wherever they are, I hope they’re living it up.” A thump like Tanyu patted the box. “Enjoy the, uh, sex box, guys. Miss you like crazy.”

Yugi sniffs hard and chokes out, “We miss you too. Say hi to your mom for us, and your uncle and cousins, and give our great-grandbabies a big hug.”

“Bye, Gramps. Bye, Pop-Pop.”

The feeling in the air that accompanies these encounters fades away. Yugi wipes his eyes. Atem’s cheeks are wet.

“Look at us,” Yugi mutters, “crying like old men.”

“We _are_ old men.”

“Do you think we’ll ever see them again? They’ve got no reason or way to come here on their own.”

Atem is quiet for a long moment, then says, “I think… I think I could _make_ a way. Like a bridge.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s just building. Building, I can do,” he says drily. “What do you think?”

Yugi considers the infinite, imploding fractal of doors and rooms that was the interior of the Millennium Puzzle, a construction project of five thousand years.

(He also considers the way Osiris - _Osiris_ \- had pulled him aside at one point during the welcome celebrations, having shrunk down to normal human dimensions, and asked Yugi if Atem was truly satisfied with his deal.

“I have not been this fully-formed in centuries,” He’d confided, “and I can count on one hand the number of times I have had the power to directly resurrect someone. The strength of his belief is incredible. Did his will affect reality in life?”

“When we shared a body it did,” Yugi’d said thoughtfully, “it showed up mostly as _ridiculously_ good luck. We called it ‘Believing in the Heart of the Cards’.”

“Hmm. Well, if the ‘Heart of the Cards’ gets restless, don’t ignore it. Strange things can happen when beings as powerful as Atem live on a plane such as this. If he needs an outlet we’ll get him one.”)

“I think,” Yugi says slowly, “that we should definitely talk to some people first. Mahaad, your cousin, and Osiris for starters, and maybe Kisara too - she clearly has a way to commute between here and the Monster Realm. But yeah, that sounds like a really great thing to work on! Just - take your time with it, right? You’re supposed to be resting.”

Atem waves a dismissive hand. “I’ve been in bed for two days. That’s plenty of rest.”

Yugi's jaw drops, then he tackles Atem flat to the mattress. “Don’t forget, I’ve got everything I need now to _make_ you rest!” Seriously, the stainless steel chains are probably some of the only post-Bronze-Age metal in this place.

Atem’s eyes gleam. “Oh no. Whatever shall I do?” There’s a challenge in his grin. Yugi has the sudden feeling he’s been expertly played.

Oh well. It’s the same outcome he would have played toward himself. Yugi grinds down against Atem with intent, watches his breath catch and his eyes go dark. “We'll just have to find out, now won’t we?” He leans down for a kiss, their first kiss in their new bed in their new home.

**Author's Note:**

>   1. I’m playing fast and loose with eras, I’m being literal and simplistic, but I am _not_ making _any_ of this religion shit up. It’s so bonkers, I love it so much.
>   2. I got Atem’s body count by reading the summary of the manga on the wiki. Geez dude, calm down. 
>   3. Thank you, Hapi, for my new most startling tag ever!
>   4. [Art! Art! Glorious art inspired by the scene at the Scales! Go forth and gaze upon its magnificence!](http://celepom.tumblr.com/post/178900029747/this-little-light-of-mine-this-didnt-really)
> 



End file.
